How Much More?
by Donatello8696
Summary: Everyone dies... it's all part of the circle of life. But did everyone that died have to mean so much to me?
1. He's Gone

He's gone. He's gone. He. Is. Gone.

Those words continued to run through my mind, consuming my every thought, taunting me until it was all I could think about. I walked into my room almost absentmindedly, trying desperately to think of other things, anything to keep my mind off of that. I needed to pick up Ponyboy after school today -

_He's gone._

No, he had track practice. That would mean he'd be late -

_He's gone. _

Huge number of things I need to have done. Laundry -

_Gone..._

- picking up after Two-Bit and Steve -

_He's not coming back..._

Gotta go to work early -

_He's dead, and he's not coming back!_

I gotta... I gotta -

_GONE! DEAD!_

With a cry of fury, I wheeled myself around and punched the wall. Hard.

_We regret to inform you... Sodapop Curtis... MIA... presumed dead..._

I cried out again as I hit the wall for the second time, pain shooting up my hand and arm -

_Dead... Sodapop..._

I punched it again, harder then the first two. My hand cut open and blood began seeping out slowly, leaving traces on the pale-white wallpaper, but I didn't care. I ignored the pain and continued.

_Dead..._

A loud sob escaped my lips as I slammed my fist against the wall yet again, tears finally running down my face. Blood was dripping, falling onto the rough carpet -

_...gone..._

My hand went numb. I stood there or a second, panting and crying and shaking, and stared at the bloody mess on the wall caused my my split knuckles. Suddenly, I was dizzy. I turned and half-walked, half-stumbled over to the corner farthest away from the door and turned my back on it. Leaning back, I felt the wall hit my back softly, and I slid down it onto the floor. I chose this spot in case Ponyboy were to come home and come looking, he wouldn't spot me so easy. From where I was sitting, my bed blocked out all the view of the doorway.

More tears fell, and another sob managed to push past the lump in my throat I was trying without success to fight down. I was disgusted at myself for not being able to be stronger, not being able to _not _cry. In a way, I believed it when people say Greasers don't cry, they _can't_ cry. It would show that you were weak and helpless, and I couldn't afford to be either.

But I couldn't get my body to react to what I wanted it to do, and finally just gave up, cries and sobs pushing past the lump like a dam had broken inside of me, tears flowing out of my eyes, unstoppable. I tucked my knees to my chest and unwillingly let myself cry.

_He's gone..._

**I have two choices: let this be a one-shot about Darry's feelings of Soda going MIA or possibly KIA, or have it a couple more chapters long to include Ponyboy in this too. Personally, I'd like to add more chapters, but that's for you to decide. **

**Please tell me what you think: Was it good? Did it make you cry? Should I continue? Review to me what you think? I like getting early Christmas presents in my mailbox!**


	2. Nightmares

**Here's Ponyboy's side of things! Trying my hardest to keep up with all my stories! Just need reviews for motivation. I mean it, guys. No reviews, no quick update. **

* * *

You know when you fall asleep, and everything seems to be okay? No dreams, no nightmares...

Just... nothing. Then, for some reason, something is telling you, _urging_ you, to wake up? For absolutely no reason at all?

That's what happened to me tonight.

I opened my eyes from a dreamless sleep, and searched around. For the first time in a long time, I didn't recognize the room I was in.

It was the same old room that I always had slept in. Clothes thrown everywhere, books strewn all over the desk and bookshelves, bed always unmade...

But at the same time it wasn't.

The room gave me a feeling of depressing gloom. It wasn't welcoming anymore. Not without Soda's laughter echoing through the walls, his familiar scent of car grease and chocolate cake and... just that familiar Soda smell.

I missed it.

Nothing was going right anymore. Ever since we got that letter saying Soda had gone missing, I had fallen behind in school, and Darry was looking more tired than ever. He wouldn't talk to me much anymore. I didn't either. It was either me and him in the same house, not speaking, or he would head off to work and I would go to school. Darry began working late hours. He wasn't home tonight. It was getting harder to pay off the bills now that Soda's paycheck stopped coming. So I got a job at the DX, filling in Soda's place.

I worked part-time with Steve. I thought that when I began working there, Steve wouldn't be any different than he was before Soda left. But Steve had really warmed up to me. Became a bit nicer, and he didn't mind if I tried to help him with anything. I guess it was hard for both of us. He lost his best friend, I lost my brother.

I felt a tear slipping from my eye, and angrily adjusted my pillow to a more comfortable position. He wasn't gone. The letter didn't say that. They just assumed. Soda could still be out there, maybe escaping the war.

Holding onto that last shred of hope, I closed my eyes again, and fell into a fitful sleep, alone in the empty house.

Three in the morning found me tossing and turning. Not from the lack of sleep.

My nightmare was beginning.

_I was running. Running through a fiery hell._

_All around me were the sounds of war - gunshots, bombs going off, screams of agony, pain, death - but I ignored it as the one instinct in my mind told me to keep running. Keep running from whatever was behind me. I didn't dare look back. I didn't try to stop either._

_But, unfortunately, dreams never end up the way you want, and I ended up falling over an abandoned M-16. In my mind, I was moving frantically, trying to get off the ground and continue running. But, really, my body felt sluggish, slow, slowing my limbs down dramatically. I had no choice but to lay there. _

_This was the first time I heard my persuiter behind me. Heavy footsteps thumped on the hot, red earth, slowing down as they reached me. And suddenly, my body could move again, and the first thing I did was turn my body around to face whoever was chasing me. I gasped._

_Brown eyes met mine._

_Sodapop stopped a few feet away from me, tilting his head in a very confused manner. He took another few, small steps toward me. I stared up at him, terrified. Soda looked horrible. His uniform was covered almost completely in blood, and not just any blood... his own. Tears in his attire about the size as bullets were punctured through his clothing, embedding his body, streaming out that awful, thick-red liquid I hated so much. His face was practically torn apart. His left side was a mess of flesh, shredded apart. A nasty looking gash spread across his forehead, seeping out blood, slowly, drizzling._

_Soda smiled, and outstretched his arms in a half-hug. "Hey Ponyboy. Long time, no see."_

_My response? I scrambled as far back as I could without leaving the dusty ground underneath me._

_The look of confusion came back, and he dropped his arms. "What's wrong, Ponyboy? Aren't ya glad to see me?" Soda's face fell into a frown. "Don'tcha love me anymore?"_

_I let out a stifled sob. There was nothing I wanted more than to believe that Soda was actually here, to run to his arms the first chance I got and feel him hugging me back, assuring me he was okay. But there was something about this dream-Sodapop. The way he looked crushed when I backed away... it was almost a cruel mock of how my brother would respond. This was definitely Sodapop in the flesh, but it wasn't. I was able to move again, and I stood._

_"You're not my brother," I said, teeth clenched tight, not trusting myself to loosen any part of my muscles. Soda continued frowning and he walked over to me, getting impossibly close with each step. I tried to back away again, but once again my muscles were locked tight, preventing any movement. My breathing became faster and frantic as he approached me. Finally, he stopped barely two feet away from where I was stuck standing._

_"It _is _me, Pony," he said. He reached up with his hand. I remained petrified in my standing position as he slowly raised his hand to my face. I stared at it._

_"This is me," he whispered. I looked at him and gasped. Blood was drooling from his mouth as he spoke, dripping down his chin onto the ground below. I was so focused on the blood I didn't notice his hand touching my face._

_And when it did, I screamed._

"Wake up! C'mon man, wake up! It's just a dream. You're okay, you're okay!"

That voice... I know it from somewhere. I heard it become louder and louder as the Soda from my dream became fainter and fainter, fading into blackness.

"Pony! Wake up, it's just a dream!"

Suddenly, the dream disappeared. First, the sounds, then the Vietman battlefield. And lastly Soda, who before he faded away, reached out to me one last time, mouthing "_Pony..._"

"Pony!"

My eyes snapped open, darting around the dark room frantically.

_Where am I? I'm... I'm on a bed. Right! My room. This is my room. Then... who's holding me?_

That's when I became aware of the hands holding my arms down gently yet firmly. On instinct, I looked up.

Brown eyes met mine.

With a whimper, I wrenched my arms away from his grip and flung them around his neck tightly. Before I knew it, I was sobbing.

He was back. He was back. He's home now, where he belongs. Just the thought of him being away from us for so long made me cling tighter on him. I must've caught him by surprise though, because he didn't react for a moment. Finally, I felt his hands being placed on my back, holding me, supporting me. As I continued to cry, he wrapped his arms around me more securely. We remained that way for a while, until I finally calmed down some and was able to speak.

"S-Soda?" I asked. I felt his body stiffen. Then he sighed.

"No," he said. I tensed. It wasn't Soda, the voice was too deep. But I couldn't place it, though it was right at the tip of my tongue... "It's Steve."

My eyes opened. Steve? This was Steve? Slowly, ever so slowly, I pulled myself away. I took my arms away from him and looked into his face. Sure enough, it was Steve staring back at me, worry in his brown eyes.

I scooted backward until my back hit the wall behind me and brought my knees up to my chest, trying to get as far away from Steve as possible. "Sorry," I muttered, blushing furiously, embarrassed. I stared at my knees, doing anything I could to avoid eye contact with Steve. He didn't say anything, but I could feel his eyes on me. I shifted under his gaze, uncomfortable. After what seemed like forever, the bed bounced slightly as he moved over to me, stopping beside me, still staring at me.

"You okay, kid?" he said into the silence. "That looked like hellavu nightmare."

I let out a quivering breath and sniffed. "It's fine," I said, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. "I'm alright."

He didn't speak.

Suddenly, I felt his arm being laid on my shoulders. I looked up, startled.

"I'm not an idiot, Pony," Steve said quietly. We both sat in silence again until he took a breath and asked," ... was it about Sodapop?"

I couldn't hold it in anymore. At the mention of my brother's name, I let out a stifled sob, covering my mouth after I let it out, the tears running down my face again.

"Aw, Pony - " he said, but that was as far as he got before I practically threw myself onto Steve, holding onto him for dear life, crying into his chest, surprising both of us. But Steve didn't hesitate to hug me back.

"He-h-he's really gone, isn't he?" I whimpered. Steve started to rub circles on my back and didn't answer. His silence made me cry harder. Steve then pulled me closer, and I felt the slight movement of him rocking me.

"It's okay, kid. It's gonna be alright. Go ahead and cry, Pone. Go ahead and cry," Steve said soothingly. Past my distress, I was a little astonished. Why was Steve comforting me like this? He never showed any type of affection towards me in my entire life. Sure, he got a bit better since Soda left, but what's to say that things won't go back to the way they were when Soda gets home?

I couldn't bring myself to think _if._

After a while, I finally calmed down. My sobs subsided, and all that was left was me trembling something awful and the shaky breathing. Steve stopped rocking me, but continued to rub my back gently.

"You okay now, kid?" Steve whispered.

I nodded into his chest and sighed.

"Steve?" I said hoarsely.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Could-c-could you maybe stay in here?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Just for tonight? I don't wanna be alone."

Steve stopped rubbing my back and paused. In the silence, I mentally panicked. _Is he gonna leave? What am I going to do if he leaves? _

"Scoot over," Steve finally said. Relief washed over me as I detached myself from him and he let go of me. I scooted over to make room for him. He picked up the covers and crawled underneath them, waiting after I did the same before pulling them over us. Then, to his surprise and mine, I moved closer to him and wrapped my arms around him, resting my head on his chest. Steve then started to rub my back again, soothing me.

"Try to go to sleep, Ponyboy," he whispered. I obeyed, feeling my eyes droop after a while. Steve was no Soda, but I felt better with him there.

And, while digging my face deeper into Steve's chest, I fell into a dreamless sleep to Steve's warmth and the sound of his heartbeat.

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**Whew! Finally! An update! God, I hate it when homework becomes too much that it takes time off working on my fics. It annoys me greatly! Sorry if Steve seemed a little out of character, but I actually wrote this down in my notebook and decided to make it part of this story. Hope you liked it! **

**Before I forget, I'd like to thank all those wonderful people who sent their condolences about Matt in my completed one-shot **_**Fake Friends, Real Friends. **_**You guys are all great. I'm still coping with it, and seeing those reviews made my pain ease. Again, thanks. Love you all!**

**Review please!**


	3. Graveyard

I stayed with Ponyboy long after he fell asleep. Up until when Darry woke up and found us in that position. I heard the soft footsteps coming toward the room and turned my head, careful not to shift my body around so I wouldn't wake Pony up. He stirred softly, but didn't wake up. I waited until Darry's tired face peeked in through the slightly opened door. Once he saw us, he stared at me in confusion and surprise. I met his gaze steadily.

"Nightmare," I explained softly. Realization dawned on Darry's face as he nodded and slowly came inside. He walked over to the bed and sat down on the armchair at my side, watching, concerned. I turned back to Ponyboy's sleeping form.

"Was he alright?" he whispered.

I sighed. "I was in the living room when it started. He was just whimpering in his sleep. I barely heard him, but I went to see if he was okay. I was almost at his door when I heard him scream. So, I went in fast and he was just," I said quietly as to not wake the kid up, "... thrashing around. And cryin'. I woke him up and when he saw me I guess he..." I trailed off into silence.

I took a deep breath, noticing the slight quiver it held. "He thought I was Soda," I finished and looked back at Darry. He was looking at me with slight wide eyes, then turned to Pony. We stayed in silence for a while, at least until Ponyboy began to stir again, his eyes becoming more pinched together.

"You should wake him up," Darry warned me quickly. "That's usually how he looks before he has a nightmare."

Following Darry's advice, I took my arm from around Pony and placed it on his shoulder, shaking him.

"Hey. Kid, wake up. Time to wake up, Pony. C'mon," I said, shaking him a little harder. Ponyboy groaned and slowly he opened his eyes.

"Steve?" he whispered, reaching up and rubbing his eyes tiredly. I nodded.

"Yeah, Pone, it's me," I answered. I waited until he looked at me to gesture toward Darry. "Darry's here."

Ponyboy yawned and raised his head slightly, looking over at Darry. "Hey Darry," he whispered, yawning again. Darry smiled and stood up, walking over to Ponyboy's side of the bed. He sat down at Ponyboy's feet on the bed.

"Hey, Pony," Darry said. Ponyboy then removed his arms from around me and sat up.

"Sorry, Steve," he said quietly, clearly embarrassed. I chuckled up sat up, too.

"It's alright, kid," I said, ruffling his already messed up hair. He swatted my hand away, offering a small smile. I stood.

"I'm gonna get goin'," I said, cracking my neck, stiff after sleeping in a slightly uncomfortable position.

Darry immediately looked up. "You don't have to go, Steve."

I dismissed his comment with a wave of my hand. "It's alright, Dar. I'm just gonna head on home, see if I'm a member of my family again." Darry nodded reluctantly.

"Alright, Steve."

I nodded. "See you guys later." Without another word, I left, walking out of the Curtis house.

-

As I strolled down the sidewalk, I knew I wasn't really going home.

Instead, I found myself going toward the cemetery. I had no natural purpose for going there, but it seemed like my feet were controlling themselves, as if they knew I had something to do there.

I walked, and walked, and walked, right until the entrance to the graveyard was in front of me. I just stared. What was I doing here?

Almost as soon as I thought that, I was moving again. Walking past various tombstones and grave markers until I found what I was supposedly looking for.

My mother's grave.

Slowly, I approached her grave, kneeling down in front of it when I got close enough. I stared at the engraving marked on it:

_Emily Randle_

_February 8, 1927 - April 28, 1961_

_Beloved Wife & Mother_

Unconsciously, my hands gripped my knees, clenched. I set my jaw, trying as hard as I could to fight the lump that had formed in my throat. After a while of just sitting there, I found the courage to speak.

"I was... I was only thirteen, y'know," I whispered, looking down, my fingers fiddling with piece of stray grass. "When you left."

I sighed, and looked up.

My mom had commited suicide about six years ago. I could sense that she was never happy with my old man. I guess she only stayed with him because of me. But I never thought it was actually this bad.

I had always known that my dad beat my mom. Even if she denied it, there was no hiding the screams coming from her and the sound of a palm hitting flesh cutting through the evening silence. Back then, my five-year-old self would be huddled in the corner farthest from the door, crying softly. Through the years, I had gotten used to it, my only reaction to it was to cover my head with the pillow to get some decent sleep.

Her excuses were always the farthest from the truth.

"I fell."

"I bumped into the door."

"Oh, y'know me. Clumsy as ever."

What bugged me was that she knew. She knew that I knew, but she still felt the need to lie to me. In fact she lied to me about everything.

She said she loved my dad. She said she loved me.

She said she would never leave.

_Lies,_ I thought bitterly, gritting my teeth.

Mom had hung herself later that month. I saw her when looking for her in her room after school, just... hanging there.

I guess I had been screaming or something, 'cause my old man had rushed in quickly to see what was wrong.

And then he saw her.

Everything was a blur after that, between my dad grabbing me and moving me out of the room, him calling the police, the ambulences...

Then I ended up waking up in a hospital room, remembering the past day's events.

Dad had called the police, but it was already too late.

_She was gone,_ I thought as I clutched a handful of dry grass fiercely. I felt the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

"I really miss you, Ma," I said quietly, furious at myself for letting a tear slip from my eye. "I could really use your advice right now." I sniffed before continuing. "I need help. Everyone's dying around here, and my friends..." I closed my eyes and tried to take a steady breath. When I was able to control myself, I opened them again. "Darry's way in over his head. He can't handle it, Mom. He could handle his parents' deaths, but... but he can't handle this. Pony's all he's got left and the kid needs Darry too. It's been harder than ever since Dallas and Johnny died, and now that Soda got drafted..."

I paused.

"Please Mom," I whispered. "Take care of him. He doesn't deserve to die. His brothers need him. Two-Bit needs him. _I _need him."

The graveyard was silent, except for the soothing sound of the wind blowing the leaves around, scraping them along the tombstones. I sat there for what seemed to be hours, silent.

After a while, however, I found I couldn't stay here any longer.

I stood up. But before I left, I kissed my hand and laid it on the grave for a second. Then I turned it over and stroked the top.

"Love you, Mom," I said.

I left.

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**Here's Stevie! I didn't really expect for it to turn out this way actually. I didn't plan Steve going to the graveyard and visiting his mom. But that's how it turned out, so... there you have it!**

**Review!**


	4. Pain

A loud blare of a car horn startled me out of my thoughts, downright nearly making me piss myself. I saw four Socs leaning out of the windows of their Mustang, shouting gleefully.

"Get outta the road, Greaser!" they shouted. One threw an empty beer can at me. It fell with a clatter to slightly to the left of me, missing its mark. I looked up in shock and realized that the Socs were right; I'd been walking around so mindlessly that I failed to notice that I was wandering on the dirt road heading into town. Breathing heavily and heart pounding, I moved quickly to the sidewalk, kicking the can out of the way in my hurry, thanking whatever God there was up there that this wasn't a particulary busy road.

Once I got over the shock, I began walking again.

I decided the best place to go was Buck's, since it was on my way, and I've been needing something to make me forget everything that's been going on for the past couple weeks.

The Curtises, for one.

Sodapop's still in Vietnam, or wherever the hell he is. Darry and Ponyboy were still trying to deal with the fact that he's gone and might be dead for all they know. Steve isn't doing any better. I haven't been around since the day the official letter came stating that Sodapop was MIA. Ponyboy nearly went crazy, trying to convince us and himself that Soda was still alive, that the letter didn't say he was dead, that they just assumed...

He cried a lot that night. I was spending the night in the living room again, listening to his sobs and Darry's attempts to comfort him. At one point I even saw Steve heading in there after Darry had left, but heard nothing coming from him. It was the last night I ever spent there.

Picking up my pace, I pulled my unzipped jacket tighter around myself, trying in whatever ways I could think of to keep myself warm from the chilling wind. A few minutes later, I reached Buck's place. I jogged up the steps, opened the door and went inside.

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"Two-Bit, what on _Earth_ on you doin' outside this late? Come inside now!" my mom exclaimed after spotting me standing on our wreck of a porch. I sighed, and pushed myself off the exterior wall of the house and followed her inside, hearing the floorboards creak dangerously underneath me.

Mom was heading for the kitchen, picking up some plates and cups me and Becky had left in the living room and hadn't bothered to pick up. I followed her partly through the dining room, then veered off to the right, walking toward the bathroom.

Once in, I glanced the mirror.

And I nearly jumped back in surprise.

The eighteen year old that was staring back was me alright, but at the same time it wasn't. I always smiled, I knew that much. He wasn't smiling, instead staring at me grimly, wearily. There were bags under his eyes, and they were filled with a type of expression you could usually find on Darry, especially nowadays. The guy staring at me also had a shocked look on his tired face.

I looked like shit.

I sighed at my reflection and turned on the faucet. I cupped my hand underneath the water and brought it up, splashing the cool liquid on my face. Buck's car didn't help me out tonight, especially since when I got there, I suddenly felt no need to get drunk tonight for some reason. Guess alcohol wasn't gona solve anything today.

I walked out of the john after I wiped my face dry with a rag and went into the living room. Mom was sitting in the armchair, reading a book. I sat opposite her, settling down on the couch. She looked up as I sat.

"Alright. Keith, I've kept quiet long enough," she said, placing her book down.

I looked down, mentally cringing. My mom was so used to using Two-Bit as my name now that she only used Keith whenever she was dead serious about something. Usually, I don't know what she wants to talk about. But tonight, I knew. "You used to go the Curtises all the time" - I was right - "and now you don't even say a word about them. Why don't you go over there for a while tomorrow? All you've been doing is mope around here, and it's starting to frighten me."

I looked up at her. I knew that my change in behavior and mood had started to creep out my mother, but she hadn't said anything about it until now. "I don' think the Curtises need anyone else involved in their problems right now." She raised her eyebrows.

"And why is that?"

Mom didn't know about Soda. I hadn't had the heart to tell her. Ma was real fond of the Curtis brothers and cared for them a lot, always trying to help them in some way. I closed my eyes momentarily and let out a deep breath. When I opened them again, Mom was staring at me curiously. Finally, I talked.

"Darry 'n Pony got a letter a while ago," I said, not surprised that my voice came out more quietly than before. Mom's eyes widened as she reached her own conclusion. "It said that... Soda had gone missing in the war, and they think he's dead. Pone was real torn up about it." Mom stared at me a while longer, understanding in her features. She nodded, looking down at last.

"You can't really blame him, hon," she said. "Soda was... _is_... after all, his brother." I nodded. Then the most unfamiliar sensation came over me. It felt as though something were ripping my ribs apart, clawing its way up toward my throat. Adding to that, my eyes began to sting and filled with a blurry liquid. I looked up, keeping whatever was trying to fight its way out down, and I blinked hurridely.

"Do-y - do you think he's still out there, Ma? Do you think Soda's still alive?" Whatever was hurting my chest came up into my throat, almost blocking the last word, nearly making me choke on it. Mom had this bewildered look in her eyes, but it was gone real quick and replaced with a sad gaze.

"Oh, honey," she whispered and got up, walked over, and sat next to me. She put a gentle arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into her embrace, the pain inside me almost unbearable. Mom hugged me close and rested her chin on my head. "It'll be alright."

The pain only intensified, as if trying to prove my mother wrong, that things were about to get a lot worse. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't keep it down anymore. I had to let it out.

So I let it out.

And for the first time in God knows how long, I began to cry.

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**I'm sorry to everyone if they thought Two-Bit was **_**way**_** out of character. Thing is, I can't really write Two-Bit real well, and it's kinda hard for me to write his cheerful side sometimes, even though I'm a cheerful person myself. =D But I decided to settle with the idea above. Even though it's not like Two-Bit to actually cry, I decided it would be interesting to write about. =)**

_**Summer's nearly here!!! No school next month!!! **_**Just to give all my readers a heads up, May is the busiest time of year at our school. There are awards nights, activity nights, dances, concerts, sports games, and for me at the end of May... GRADUATION!! Yes, I am finally graduating! Well, I'm graduating from eighth grade into high school, but still I'm graduating! Anyone wanna give me tips about high school? They're greatly appreciated, since I'm seriously freaked out about it! O.O**

**Well, even though I'm a real jerk for not posting anything for quite a while, here's the 4th chapter for you guys! Hope you liked it! R&R!**

**Oh, and before I forget... **_**Happy early birthday, Kaoru Kaido**_**! (May 11) (Prince of Tennis)**


	5. Happier Days

***sighs in exhaustion* I really need to start writing my fics' chapters earlier. Spent nearly half the night trying to finish this chapter. But I did it! And on time too. Whew! XD**

**So here is the fifth chapter! And since the character's POVs are all done, with the exception of Dallas and Johnny (RIP ) and Sodapop, this chapter is going to be more or less in Ponyboy's view of things again. **

* * *

_2 weeks later_

I opened my eyes to the sun glaring at me through the open window. Groaning, I shut my eyes tight again and buried my face into my warm pillow, desperate for a few more minutes of sleep. Try as I might, sleep didn't come that easy and with a sigh of defeat, I slowly pulled back the covers and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I yawned drowsily and rubbed at my heavy eyes, wondering vaguly if Darry was awake.

Not quite awake yet, I willed myself to get out of bed and trudged out of the room, my feet shuffling on the wooden floor. There was no noise coming from the kitchen, so I assumed Darry wasn't awake yet. Yet, just to make sure, I walked by his room and quietly peeked inside.

Nothing. Darry wasn't there, and his bed was made. Frowning, I shut his door and walked out of the hallway and into the living room, finding Steve sleeping on the couch, snoring softly. Other than him, the house was empty. Confused and a little hurt by Darry's sudden disappearence, I headed into the kitchen, deciding I better make myself some breakfast.

Still a little groggy, I walked to the icebox and opened the door, taking out the chocolate milk. Closing the little door, I turned around, facing the table and noticed a small piece of paper underneath the salt shaker. Raising an eyebrow, I placed the milk on the table and picked up the paper. I recognized Darry's handwriting.

_Ponyboy,_

_If you wake up and find me gone, don't worry. I just headed out to run a few errands and pick up a couple of things. Steve should be there, so he'll keep you some company. I might run a little late, but I'll be back in time for dinner, alright? Take care of yourself, and don't go heading into town by yourself. I don't want you getting jumped by some Socs today. I made some breakfast for you already, so don't worry about that. There should be enough for you and Steve, if he wants any. It's in the icebox._

_Darry_

_P.S. Sorry about not waking you up. Just looked like you needed it._

After reading the note a couple more times, I felt slight relief. Today was Darry's day off, so I wouldn't have known where he went if he hadn't told me. But then again, it was pretty obvious; we were running a little low on groceries.

Laughing a little at my unnecassery concern for my brother, I threw the note back on the table and turned back to the fridge. Sure enough, there was a plate of some eggs and bacon, enough for two. Taking it out, I put it on a pan and heated it up some, knowing full well that Steve would be hungry when he woke up.

"Hey kid."

And speak of the Devil.

I looked up and found Steve leaning on the doorframe, looking as tired as I felt, his hair slightly tousled. I nodded at him. "Hey Steve. Hungry?"

"Yeah," he said. I nodded again and turned to the food, which was nearly done. I reached up to the cupboard and pulled out two plates and forks. Carefully, I scraped half of the food onto a plate and offered it to Steve, who took it, muttering "Thanks." I scraped the rest onto my plate and we ate in silence.

About five minutes later, when half our food was eaten, the front door opened with its usual slam and I heard a familiar voice call out, "Anybody home?"

I turned toward the living room. "Yeah, Two-Bit, in here! Don't slam - "

BANG!

"Never mind," I muttered. Steve snickered. A moment later, Two-Bit waltzed into the room, grinning widely.

"Sorry, kid," he drawled, swiping a piece of bacon from my plate. "Forgot."

I grabbed the bacon back before he could eat it and smirked at his pouty expression. "You want food, make it yourself," I said, taunting him by eating the bacon he had taken.

Two-Bit groaned. "You're so mean, you know I can't cook!" he said, making a show of falling on the couch face down and laying still. I rolled my eyes, and opened the icebox, pulling out a beer. I cleared my throat loudly. Two-Bit remained still. Sighing, I grabbed the botte opener and with a pop, the cap came off. Two-Bit immediately looked up and practically leapt over the couch and rushed to my side. The beer was out of my hand in a second. Smirking, I turned back to my plate and finished the last of it.

"You guys are nuts," I muttered. Steve let out a laugh, then followed suit when I put the dishes in the sink.

* * *

**Sorry if the ending seemed too sudden, but I have a physical tomorrow and needed to get this done. This shows a brighter side of what's going on. Next chapter will be announced on my page, so keep an eye out for that.**

**Review please!**


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